Chapter 54

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Deep in the Arte Forest
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Cesare spurred his horse on without hesitation. His black steed drew up right beside Ariadne's.

"Get your feet out of the stirrups!"

Cesare leaned over and wrapped his arms around Ariadne. She hastily tried to kick her feet free, but her stirrups were designed for a lady—wide, with a low instep—making it difficult for her feet to slip out easily. After a struggle, she managed to free her right foot, but the left remained stuck. As Ariadne fought to pull her foot out, the man’s strong arms fully supported her weight and lifted her up, transferring her from her own brown mare to his black one. But her left foot was still caught in the stirrup. As Cesare’s horse galloped forward, putting distance between it and Ariadne’s, her trapped foot nearly pulled her from his grasp. Cesare briefly halted his horse, readjusted his grip, and held her tight.

"…!"

Just as Cesare had foreseen, Ariadne's horse's hind leg caught on a rock. It stumbled badly, then collapsed as if kneeling, its right hip hitting the ground first. With one of its four legs gone, the other three gave way in an instant. Because Ariadne's left foot was still in the stirrup, both she and Cesare, who was holding her, lurched sharply to the left as her horse went down.

‘At this rate, both horses will go down!’

Cesare decided to jump from his horse. He kicked his own feet from their stirrups, let go of the reins he held in one hand, and spurred his mount forward with his heels. The moment the horse bolted, he leaped off, still holding Ariadne, and landed on his back, rolling hard across the ground.

"Hmph…!"

As they flew through the air, the angle between her foot and the stirrup changed, finally freeing her foot from the falling horse. Cesare, with Ariadne in his arms, managed to roll twice before coming to a safe stop on the ground. Thud!

"Ugh..."

The sound of Ariadne's horse collapsing and the thud of Cesare and Ariadne hitting the dirt floor echoed loudly through the small forest clearing.

After enough time had passed for the dust to settle, Ariadne peeked her eyes open from within Cesare's embrace. Confirming she was uninjured, she immediately scrambled out of his arms. The feeling of her feet on the unmoving ground was so welcome it nearly brought her to tears. She looked to the man lying on the ground, who had cushioned her fall with his own body.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Cesare, however, remained lying on the floor of the forest clearing. A moment of silence passed.

‘Is he dead?!’

Ariadne panicked. She was glancing around, wondering if she should hold a feather under his nose to see if he was breathing. Zanobi's arrow was still stuck in her horse's rump. Maybe the feather on that arrow would work…? Just then, a tenor voice drawled.

"Well, it was nice having a beauty in my arms, but you left so quickly."

At least his mouth was still alive. Ariadne let out a sigh of relief that he wasn't dead.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

In response to her question, Cesare chose to whine.

"My arm hurts. I think I'll just keep lying here."

Ariadne stared down at him, dumbfounded. He met her gaze, his deep, watery eyes curving into crescents as he gave her a dazzling smile.

"Since my arms are already open, why don't you come lie in them?"

He had his left arm stretched out, ready to be used as a pillow. Ariadne didn't budge, retorting sharply.

"Stop talking nonsense and get up. Keep it up and I'll kick that arm of yours."

Ariadne moved closer and reached for his hand to help him up from where he lay on his back. But she was so startled by his loud groan of pain that she let go.

"Owowow! It really hurts."

Indeed, upon closer inspection, his gloved left hand was swelling up badly. Unlike his right hand, which had some room in its deerskin glove, the left one was stretched taut.

"We need to get this off, quickly."

"Take it off for me."

Normally, she would have kicked him in the back of the head for such a remark, but his hand was swelling so fast it seemed urgent. Careful not to touch his upper arm, Ariadne grunted as she peeled off his green deerskin glove. She gently pressed on his left arm above his sleeve.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

"A little higher… Ack! Right there!"

It seemed Cesare had broken his forearm—the part below the elbow—when he fell. Whether it was the radius on the thumb side or the ulna on the pinky side, Ariadne's medical knowledge couldn't tell.

"We need to get back quickly. I have to splint this or something."

Ariadne looked around. Cesare's horse was grazing peacefully at the edge of the clearing, but her own horse was lying on the ground, breathing raggedly. The joint of its right hind leg, which had caught on the rock, was bent backward at an unnatural angle, the broken bone visible through its coat. Zanobi's arrow was still lodged deep in its rump.

"Give me your knife."

Cesare pointed to his waist, where, in addition to the club he always carried, a hunting knife was sheathed. It was a Toledo hunting knife, longer than a dagger but shorter than a longsword. Ariadne drew the knife and used its blade to nick the hem of the chemise she wore under her riding habit, then ripped it forcefully to make a makeshift bandage. She looked around for something to use as a splint, but finding nothing suitable, she gathered a few branches, wrapped them tightly with a piece of the bandage to form a support, and then used the rest of the cloth to secure the splint to Cesare's wrist and the area just below his elbow.

"Well now, I didn't know you had this kind of talent, my lady."

"You learn a thing or two growing up on a country farm."

With the support firmly tied in place, the pain seemed to have subsided. Cesare stood up, brushing the leaves and dirt from his clothes, and took the reins of his grazing steed. He looked at Ariadne's fallen horse.

"There's no hope for this one."

Ariadne’s brow furrowed. She, too, saw no way to get the horse out of the Arte Forest, and with its leg so completely broken, it seemed there was no future for it beyond the butcher's block even if they did get back.

"What should we do?"

"It would be a kindness to put it out of its misery here. If we leave it alone, it'll just be eaten alive by a pack of wolves."

Ariadne felt sorry for the horse, but she agreed with Cesare that this was the best thing for it. When she nodded, Cesare took the hunting knife from her and, using only his right hand, expertly cut the horse's carotid artery. The horse struggled for a moment, then grew still, its breathing ceasing. Ariadne closed its eyelids. Cesare didn't stop there; he cut into the horse's rump and retrieved Zanobi's arrow.

"How did this happen? And whose arrow is this?" Cesare asked, wiping the bloody knife on the grass before sheathing it.

"It's a long story."

"Time is all we have, isn't it? Tell me slowly."

Cesare surveyed the forest clearing they were in. Incredibly tall conifers soared toward the sky, and moss-covered tree trunks and rocks were scattered about. The autumn sun shone from a point just past its zenith.

"It looks to be around lunchtime. Did you eat?"

"No."

Cesare took some dried jerky from his horse's saddlebag, popped a piece in his mouth, and handed one to Ariadne.

"We've been riding for quite a while, so we must be deep in the forest. I came straight north from the camp, so let's use the sun as a guide and head south. If the path is blocked, we'll follow the sound of water."

It was a rational plan. Ariadne agreed.

"Alright, shall we get on the horse? You'll ride in front, my lady?"

"What did you say?"

There were two people, and one horse.

"What, you want me to ride in front and you behind? This is my horse, you know."

"We can just walk!"

"Why on earth would we walk when we have a perfectly good horse? Ah, so you want to spend the night in the forest with me, do you, our chaste and pious Lady de Mare?"

"Just shut that mouth of yours."

***

While Leo III and Duke Mireille, the highest leaders of both nations, were putting on a show of amicable friendship over champagne, the working-level officials from both countries were locked in a fierce debate inside a negotiation tent set up in a corner of the hunting grounds. The area was heavily guarded by soldiers to prevent anyone from eavesdropping. Seated across from each other at a long wooden table, the delegation of about ten negotiators was still engaged in a heated back-and-forth, even though lunchtime had long passed. Only some finger foods and water sat on the table; not a single alcoholic beverage was in sight.

"The Etruscan side cannot simply dismiss its concerns regarding the bride's status."

The head of the Etruscan working-level team was Marquis Marquez. He pressed his counterpart, flipping through a parchment detailing Grand Duchess Lariesa de Valois's lineage and family tree.

"We are well aware that the Grand Duke de Valois is a seventh cousin to His Majesty King Philippe IV of Gallico and a collateral member of the royal family. However, he is merely of a collateral line, not the sovereign of an autonomous territory. A sovereign should marry a sovereign. Our Prince Alfonso is the only son of His Majesty King Leo III and the heir to the throne."

The Gallican delegation maintained a consistently cynical and mocking attitude.

"So, what's your plan? To fetch a grand duchess from the Grand Duchy of Sternheim? Or perhaps the princess of the Kingdom of Brunnen is more to your taste, given her higher station?"

Count Levien, the head of the Gallican delegation, listed the names of weak nations that, while ruled by sovereigns, possessed little power. His tone was thick with the implication, "You're not actually going to bring in the Princess of Brunnen instead of Grand Duchess Lariesa, are you?" as he stared at Marquis Marquez. The Kingdom of Brunnen and the Grand Duchy of Sternheim, while kingdoms or autonomous grand duchies based on their sovereign bloodlines and lineage from the old Ratan Empire, were extremely poor, small countries located in the cold north. But Marquis Marquez was undeterred.

"We originally agreed to accept a daughter of the Grand Ducal house as our prince's bride because that daughter was none other than Grand Duchess Suzanne. We believed that a noble lady as renowned and exceptional as Grand Duchess Suzanne would be more than capable of serving as the Queen of the Kingdom of Etruscan, despite her slightly lower status. But then she was replaced by Grand Duchess Lariesa at the last minute! We ask that you try to understand our dismay."

"What can be done about her passing!"

Grand Duchess Suzanne, the eldest daughter of the Grand Duke de Valois, was a talented woman whose fame had spread beyond her country's borders. She was renowned for her exceptional beauty, devout faith, and wise and thoughtful character, lacking in nothing. Tragically, she had fallen ill and passed away during an epidemic that swept through Montpellier, the capital of the Kingdom of Gallico, the previous summer. Lariesa was Suzanne's quiet, unremarkable younger sister.

"If the bride has changed, then so must the dowry."

Marquis Marquez finally revealed his true intentions.

"Add twenty cannons and the Gallican regular army's formula for gunpowder to the bride's dowry."

An intense tension instantly filled the negotiation room.